


The Diva's Paean

by Huinari



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huinari/pseuds/Huinari
Summary: At a point in history where Choristers are expected to become normal citizens after their (expected to fail) Ceremony of Ascension, Rin suddenly finds herself the first Diva in nearly half a century. And she is not happy about the ‘honor’, no matter what anyone says. Now if only Len would stop giving her the puppy-dog eyes, maybe she could actually quit.OrThe story of a girl who insists on being pragmatic and logical above all, a spirit getting used to the physical world, and the life and world they opened their eyes to together.





	1. prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripples running through the reflection on the spring’s surface.

As all living beings did, even the gods died. They died of old age, of heartbreak, and of inflicted wounds. And made up of divinity and power and the seven elements of light, darkness, fire, water, earth, wind and lightning as they were, when they died they left behind not bodies but traces that affected the nature and mortals where they fell.

Where the gods of animals died bleeding out there were born the shifters, stronger and sharper in senses compared to mortal humans. Where the goddess of fairies and forests slept for years there sprouted the World Trees that birthed elves from its fruit.

Where the goddess of muses and the arts wept as she held her dying lover there remained a promise to set wrongs right once more – no matter how long it took, no matter how many were drawn into the resolution and hurt from the unkind path of fate.

The first of that promise was the first Diva, the first incarnate of the goddess, and the Paean, the spirit that rose from the spring where the goddess had wept over her lover’s blood, and together they purified the demon-infested lands around the small pool of water and found a kingdom, and they called it –

Hamartia.

And so over the span of a century and several decades eleven more Divas would find their Paeans, but only the first was able to keep the forgotten oath between the parted lovers.

* * *

  **The Diva's Paean**

* * *

 

Rin was a fairly normal person.

She said ‘fairly’, of course, understanding that the concept of normal could be vastly different depending on the person, but as far as Rin was concerned, she could fit under the broad umbrella of the term without much difficulty. She was ethnically Hamartian and born in the kingdom, had nothing about her appearance that really made her stand out from a crowd of people, and did not have any particular talents or ambitions that drew attention to her.

She was a Chorister, yes, but that was nothing special. A lot of girls with the potential were – and that was all they were, before they failed their Ceremony of Awakening when they were sixteen or seventeen and became regular citizens.

That, Rin had always assumed since her early realization that the world was not a very kind place and, in the end, she would always have to stand alone, always believed since the day she had given up on dreaming of Divas and Paeans and becoming heroes, would be her path.

Some would have argued against her self-assessment of being normal, calling her too fatalistic to be normal. Rin thought she was just a little more placid and realistic than fatalistic. She wasn’t much of a believer in fate, just in decision making and the consequences that followed, be it good or bad decisions and good or bad consequences. It wasn’t her fault that from a young age she had been able to get a good, hard look at her situation, and mature early to plan for herself.

Be a Chorister, become educated. Fail the Ceremony of Awakening, become a regular citizen. Find a job – maybe one to do with the Temples – and live. Continue to do so until she died, either of old age, a demon attack, or some other unforeseen circumstances, though old age was the most preferred option. Painless old age, at that.

She had even narrowed down her talents and career options, too. Entering the Tower of Alexandria was out, because she barely had any Mana in her for use, and the formulas, circles, runes and incantations to aid with casting magic had always been too difficult for her to naturally understand in the way it was required. Becoming a knight was also out of the question – Divas aside the standards for a female knight to meet weren’t worth the return and threatened her plan of living in relative safety and peace. That, and she didn’t have the physical strength for it, let alone a talent with Aura manipulation.

She had a bit of the Force, and the Temples always accepted anyone who could pull up the divine light, but that was a last-resort, more for down the line when she was older.

Other than that, Rin was also smart and quick-witted, good at critical thinking. She was no genius with a photographic memory or revolutionizing ideas, but she was smarter than average.  

Perhaps she would apply for a job at the library as a secretary, or as an educator of future Choristers like the teachers that had taught her. She was good at paperwork, her reading comprehension was excellent, and she had great concentration skills. Less so on the social aspect, but that could be pulled up to a polite enough public front if she needed it. Customer service wouldn’t be a focus or a priority, but if she had to, she could. There was also becoming a governess for the young children of rich merchant families. She liked children fine and got along with them well enough.  It would depend on the demand for the job.

Whichever one paid well and was in her range of things she could do, both skills-wise and in terms of her comfort zone.

When Rin explained her plans to a Mentor a week before the Ceremony would start, the woman burst out laughing.

“That,” Cul gasped out between wheezes, “is beautiful.”

“You have an odd sense of beauty,” replied Rin. She liked her own plans for the future fine and believed that her self-assessment was objectively on-spot, but even she didn’t think it was beautiful.

There was nothing particularly beautiful about it at all.

Of course, she was also aware that Mentor Cul was a bit of an odd one with the weirdest sense of humor, so perhaps something had gotten to her funny bone and was making her act this way again. And she did also have an odd sense of beauty, if the way she had decorated her small office was indication enough. Looking at the room, filled with all sorts of colourful knickknacks that assaulted the visual senses, one would never guess or believe that the owner of the room was once a knight of relative renown.

Cul burst out laughing again, but luckily it did not last as long this time.

“What are you going to do if you don’t become a Mentor?” the redhead asked once she had stopped cackling. She dug with one hand in the drawer of her desk and pulled out a small clay jar, filled with candied ginseng. Rin refused politely – she wasn’t a fan, especially of the odd herbal smell – before replying.  

“Find a job elsewhere in the city,” Rin said. The capital was a little safer than towns, in part because the palace grounds were there. Maximum security for royals and all. If possible, she wanted to stay near the place of maximum safety in Hamartia.

It would be competitive, though, because other people thought like she did and wanted to stay as safe as possible, and in Hamartia, Rakia was arguably the safest place to be for regular citizens with no royal or noble blood in their veins. She did consider some of the alternative cities that were considered regularly safe. In the worst-case scenario, she could move. Former Choristers made for good clerks, if nothing else, thanks to their education, and her honourable discharge would be a credential in itself.

Cul took an interest and began tossing questions about different scenarios. Rin thought about it and answered according to her plan. She didn’t need much time to answer – she had been working on her future goals for years now, knew it like the back of her hand.

“One last thing,” Cul said as she glanced out the window towards the clock tower, checking how much time they had spent discussing Rin’s plans for the future. “What are you going to do if you’re chosen as a Diva?”

That one did leave her a bit stumped. Rin’s plans of normality did not include the what-if scenario for the case of her becoming a Diva simply because it was too unrealistic.

Rin had to think about this one for a little longer. Her entire plans started with the premise that she was not chosen, that she would fail as had all other Choristers for the past near-fifty years.

It was easy to see what happened, even hypothetically, when the entire cause was removed.

“I’d have to throw out my plans and make new ones,” she said at last. The thought of having to do so was a little annoying.

Cul smirked. “Any idea on what those would be?” she prodded.

Rin, tired of the charade, was tempted to answer disrespectfully but refrained. It wouldn’t do to be dishonourably discharged as a Chorister when she was so close, and for the stupidest reason of sassing her counselling Mentor.

“Not really,” she answered honestly.

The answer was too normal for Cul to be interested in, it seemed, because the redhead didn’t laugh again.

“Alright,” said the Mentor with a loud clap of her hands. “I guess we’re done here, then.”

Rin rose from her seat. “Thank you,” she said, mostly out of good manners.

Cul winked at her as she extended a hand to shake. Rin took it, and felt the strong, calloused grip nearly crush her fingers. This time she did send a bit of a resentful look towards the Mentor who taught the Choristers how to fight, but was ignored magnificently.

“Good luck with your Ceremony of Awakening, Rin,” she said instead.

Rin nodded, even as she thought that the only good luck she needed was the small amount necessary to not make a stupid mistake during the ceremony. Like tripping over her clothes, or twisting an ankle, or falling in the cavern when she and the other Choristers descended into the darkness to sing. 

“Thank you,” she said again. “Have a good day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is going to break my heart but what the hey.  
> writing this because i have vocaloid otps, a love for fantasy and the urge to write a semi-original story without making up character names or appearances and vocaloid was always great for that.


	2. Dunamis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunamis (δύναμις)  
> Potentiality

It was rare that Meiko wore something other than armor or the clothes of a military official, but it was the period of time where the seasons transitioned from winter to spring, and new beginnings to come were celebrated. Even for an old woman lacking sentimentalities like her that warranted dressing up a little.

Of course, dressing up for a non-ceremonial fashion in her standards meant grabbing something from her wardrobe that wasn’t the usual and yanking it on, but she counted it anyways. Besides, in this case, the red robe with cranes embroidered on it was actually quite pretty, enough to warrant even her best friend’s approval. It was more of her Paean’s taste in fashion than hers, a gift from five years ago.

Or had it been six? She twisted a lock of her hair too short to tie back into her thin ponytail around her finger as she gave it some thought before deciding that it was five if she said it was five. She had never been one to crease her handsome face over smaller, insignificant details. And the only reason it was her favorite was because it was comfortable to wear and had been a gift from Kiyoteru.

Across the table Luka poured the prepared hot water into the teapot, and then poured out the first batch before filling the bowl once more. While the tea steeped, she let the tea bowls warm.

All this, the Diva of the Dancing Water did with the grace and elegance she had been known for since becoming a Diva. Despite having lost the transience of mortals shortly after Meiko, Luka’s beautiful face, fine-featured and awe-inspiring, was something talked about in awe by many to this day.

But then again, one never could get sick of beautiful things, and Luka’s beauty did not fade with the passing of time like so many others, a rarity enough to be praised.

Making the unnecessary motions to hold back her non-existent sleeve, Luka soundlessly placed the filled bowl of tea in front of Meiko. Unlike the current fashion, with the sweeping long sleeves that were too bothersome to be bothered with, Luka wore a simple two-piece, with a sweeping, flaring skirt and a half-sleeved top that exposed her smooth, flawless forearms. She wore almost no jewelry, having no need to hold stones to store magic in like most of the mages of the present era, save for one blue-stoned ring on her left ring finger, and that was more for the sake of rare sentimentalities than for practical use.

“It’s hot,” she said. “Please don’t gulp it down.”

“I thought we were friends, Luka.” Meiko pouted, pulling her lips into a childish expression even as her eyes twinkled with laughter. “And you serve me musty leaf juice. I’m hurt. Where’s the strong rice wine? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my favorites?”

Luka’s face was as cold and as beautiful as a snowstorm, but the words that came out of her mouth were akin to an exasperated mother’s more than an unforgiving snow queen’s.

“Wine made from grains is prohibited,” she scolded. “You know this, Meiko. Drink the damn tea.”

Meiko briefly weighed the pros and cons of prodding at Luka’s patience until the elegant Diva lost her temper but decided against it in the end, reasoning that it wasn’t as fun to do so when she couldn’t get drunk. She raised the steaming bowl to her lips and drained it entirely of its contents. The heat couldn’t hurt her, and hot water, for all that it lacked the cheer of liquor, was soothing in its own, healthy way.

Luka gave her a most disapproving look as she enjoyed the fragrance of the tea, but Meiko had never been one to enjoy the flavor or the ‘finer’ aspects of food. Food was food, regardless of shape, and as long as it tasted fine and was edible, she wouldn’t complain. It was a trait of hers that rubbed against the sensitive grain of Luka’s very soul.

Still, they had known each other for too long, been through too much to try and change each other. Luka let it go as she always did and moved on.

“Miki wants to oversee the Ceremony of Ascension this year,” she said, sky-blue eyes cast downwards and making a picture that would make anyone with functioning eyes stare in wonder.

Meiko reached for a biscuit. The tea was probably something Luka had picked out and blended herself. It wasn’t bad, but Meiko was not the person to come to when it came to singing the praises of the finer qualities of foods. That was what Kiyoteru was around for, when he was in the mood to act cultured.

“That’s unusual,” she said, biting into the small teacake shaped like a flower. For all that she didn’t like flowers for their frailty, it was a good rice cake. Not too sweet, but chewy and giving more sustenance than its small appearance suggested.

And it _was_ unusual, not just lip service to go along with whatever had Luka in such a fuzzy mood. Miki was usually the one to avoid public events, and as annual as the Ceremony of Ascension was, it was still something that would put the younger Diva in a lot of contact with different people. None of the Choristers, of course, that was usually a waste of time too valuable to be spent so frivolously, but Mentors had to be directed, festivities overseen and protected in case demons ruined the cheerful mood, and at least one Duet had to serve as the mascot for what was being celebrated.

Perhaps she wanted to be more publicly active?

Meiko cast aside that idea at the tight look on Luka’s face.

“She claims she has a good feeling about this one,” the Tower of Alexandria’s oldest Elder said in a clipped tone. She deliberately raised the bowl to her pink lips and took small sips.

Luka hated unquantifiable, unjustifiable things like ‘based on instinct’ and ‘gut feelings’. It was where she clashed the most with her student and fellow Diva on. A bit ironic, given their specialties, but they said the gods did so love irony.

Meiko shrugged, trying to remember if her old subordinate had mentioned anything about promising Choristers. Cul had said something about a few possible recruits into the Rhodon Knights, but nothing about a potential Diva.

“At least you don’t have to do it?” she offered. The Ceremony of Ascension was annoying on their parts as well, and just as frustrating. Fifty plus years of idiotic watchers always hemming and hawing at everything they did tended to do that. And even after she terrified each watcher, they never stopped putting one on her every time it became her turn to fill the role.

The pink-haired Diva had a long-suffering look on her face, but Meiko had faith in the resilience of her friend’s mental state. They’d been through far too much already to be affected by something as little as an unpredictable former student and fellow Diva.

Meiko had enough faith to poke a little fun, as well.

“Who knows?” she said cheerfully. “Miki’s always been pretty intuitive. She might be right, and we might actually get a new junior for once. I’m all for getting some new blood among our numbers.”

“I would like for you to know that I feel utterly betrayed right now,” Luka said dryly.

Meiko grinned, broadly stretching her lips and exposing her teeth. After a moment, Luka gave and smiled a little as well.

* * *

“Is that the last of it?”

Rin looked down at the small bundle of clothes and books she had set in the corner of Miku’s bedroom and shook her head.

“I still have some of the things I need for the rest of my stay,” she replied. It was more efficient that way, to leave the essentials until she was no longer to stay there. Even so, the bundle of possessions was so small and insignificant, almost pathetic.

Six years of her life, from the age of ten, and it was wrapped up into that.

Her friend nodded, having once been a Chorister herself. “Smart. You left behind an extra pad for your bleeding just in case, right?”

Rin tried to remember.

“It probably won’t be a problem,” she said when she couldn’t be certain of what she had left behind in her dorm room. “I’m too irregular, anyways.”

Then, because Miku looked ready to nag her for the terrible unpreparedness, she hurried to change the topic. “Thanks a lot, Miku.”

Her best friend’s eyes softened fondly, even as she fetched a pad and shoved it into Rin’s pocket.

“It’s not a problem,” she said, voice warm. “This was stressful for me last year, too.”

Miku was a year older than she was and had passed through last year’s Ceremony of Ascension in the exact way Rin planned to – quietly, without any fuss. There had been one other girl who broke down weeping in the cavern and had to be dragged out, but Miku hadn’t been her, though she had appeared a bit shaken and ready to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

After the Ceremony of Ascension, she would stay with Miku, being her roommate. Before becoming Choristers, they had lived together, and known each other for far longer, growing up almost like family. There would be no problems with getting along with each other, and there was safety in numbers. Mikuo worried, but he was more relieved they would be living together.

And Miku was ecstatic that Rin would be living with her, just like old times before they had become Choristers.

“We can celebrate afterwards,” she said, pulling out a loaf of bread, cheese and some dried fruit from the storage box before she winced. “I mean I’m not saying you failing is a good thing or anything like that, but, you know.”

Rin didn’t mind.

“We both know I’m going to fail like everyone else,” she pointed out. Then she wondered if she was being a little too callous, poking at Miku’s past dreams. Unlikely and unrealistic as they had been, Miku once dreamed of being a Diva up to the day when she underwent the Ceremony of Ascension – and failed.

She didn’t dream of it now, not when there was no chance at all, but still.

“I feel like you drain me of dreams and romance,” Miku said with a sigh as she cut off a slice of bread and handed it to Rin. There were no signs of hurt in her face.

“Good, it’ll help you live more in the real world,” Rin replied, putting some cheese on top and taking a bite. She didn’t let her relief show.

Miku lightly slapped her arm. “I do so live in the real world!”

“You spent a good chunk of your life trying to convince me that your doll was real.” And then Miku, being the stupidly kind idiot she was, had given her childhood companion and favorite comfort toy to a crying girl two days before becoming a Chorister.

One year before Rin had joined her, she was left in a place isolated from others, ten years old and scared, without her familiar source of comfort.

Sometimes Rin felt like the older one.  At least once she was out she could make sure Miku wasn’t duped by anyone. That would be a relief, for both Rin and Mikuo.

“Oh, you.” Miku stuck out her tongue.

“Gross.” Rin wrinkled her nose, mentally adjusting ‘sometimes’ to ‘always’. “Swallow your food first.”

* * *

Every year, one hundred girls were picked from around the country to become Choristers. Through the six years of education and training they received, some would inevitably be discharged for reasons. Not being able to keep up with the lessons taught, bad habits that weren’t fixed, failing to meet with expectations of Mentors and so on. In Rin’s year, there were sixty-three girls remaining.

That meant, for this year’s Ceremony of Ascension, there was need of enough blessed water for sixty-three girls to take baths in. Having been someone with the Force, Rin eyed the small tub of water imbued with the holy force with a bit of empathetic pity. No doubt some unfortunate fourth or fifth year girl with the Force had been recruited to manually go around blessing the water that would wash a sixth-year and then be distributed to the citizens of Rakia. Said junior was probably going through what she had the last two years – lying down, dizzy and faint and excused from the rest of the activities to recover her strength.  

Quickly, she stripped off, took a deep breath, and then squeezed her body into the small tub. Sixty-three girls to go through the purification phase meant there was no luxury of heated water. The Force used to bless it, was the logic, would wash away everything better than the heat could.

Whoever made that rule had clearly not understood the point of hot baths, Rin thought with gritted teeth as she began to scrub at her body with vigor to get it over with. It was freezing. Anything impure would more likely be chased away by the sheer cold, not by the small amount of the Force in the water that made it ‘holy’.

Skin red from the vicious scrubbing, blonde hair darkened from the water and stiff, Rin left the water with her teeth chattering fiercely. A younger Chorister, with the green badge on her grey robe distinguishing her as a fourth-year, handed her a warmed towel. Rin shuddered with relief at the warmth wrapping around her and wiped off any trace of moisture off her body as quickly as she could. Her hair, cut at chin length like every other Chorister, was easily dried by the warmed air.

The junior Chorister handed her a robe. It was the same shape as all the robes Choristers wore – loose, simple and meant to represent their pure and devoted souls, except unlike their regular grey clothes it was white, for the Ceremony of Ascension.

“Thanks,” she said when she took it. The robe was also warmed – most likely by magic. Every girl with the Force was brought in to purify the water, and every girl with a talent in Mana manipulation was put to warming robes and towels and being runners for the sixth-year Choristers. The ones with a talent with Aura would be distributing the holy water left from the baths to the public.

Rin tried not to look at the water that had been her bathwater, and definitely tried to not think about how some person – nameless and faceless but undeniably real – would probably be drinking that very same water later in the day and be grateful for it. She failed both miserably.

The younger Chorister helped her straighten her robe. Rin habitually reached for the violet badge that represented her sixth-year status before realizing she had no need of it anymore.

This was it. This was what six years of her life had prepared her for, and even the knowledge of her destined failure did nothing to take away the nerves.

“Good luck, senior,” said the Chorister, and the girl almost looked like she pitied Rin.

She really must have looked bad. Whatever breakfast she had managed to eat – purified water and blessed wafers that had a bland taste at best – churned in her stomach.

Rin swallowed and nodded. She felt sick. So much for the holy water.

* * *

Before Hamartia was founded, when the land the kingdom stood on was still infested with demons and a living hell for those who were unfortunate to reside in the wasteland, a runaway slave that had been captured from the Free Cities stumbled into a cavern, exhausted from having outrun both her captors and the demons in the land. She reached the spring within, not knowing that the deep waters held the remaining traces of the fallen lover of the goddess of muses and reached for water to prolong her life.

Instead of the water she had expected, a hand had reached out and grabbed her extended fingers, and from the depths of the spring of Tegyra rose a spirit with a physical body like demons infesting the world, and yet with origins much higher and closer to the divine than demons.

The two of them became the first Diva and Paean and formed the first Duet, and with their newfound power that stemmed from their partnership, killed the leaders of the demon packs in the land and destroyed their focal points. Humans who heard of their strength gathered, seeking protection, and that was how Hamartia had been created.

One hundred and thirty-four years after Hamartia was found, the sixty-three girls of the Seventy-Eighth Choristers followed Mentor Mew, who taught them music, into the very same cavern in the hopes of recreating the country’s founding story. The positions of the Divas of Darkness and Wind were still empty and needed to be filled once more.

With Tegyra being as important as it was to Hamartia, it was no longer able to stay the wild cavern and spring hidden within it had been when Queen Sophrona stumbled into it. There were layers of wards placed by intricate spell circles and formulas ensuring no one could enter without permission on the outside.

Inside the cavern, the air smelt faintly of musty water and damp dirt, a smell that wasn’t exactly unpleasant but by no definition of the word could be considered fresh. The only sources of light were the torches that hung from the walls, placed in intervals of ten feet.

At the end of the cavern, there was a large, wooden board carved with runes and spells that she couldn’t make out, glittering faintly with the materials of the catalysts they were been imbued with. Probably something expensive, like ground gems. Under the wooden covering sealed with a variety of protective magic there would be the spring of Tegyra. Purified as they were, the girls were not allowed to touch the waters lest they contaminate it and destroy the nation’s only source of Paeans, or worse, create whatever the demonic version of Paeans were.

That made the song the only method of being able to appeal to the sleeping Paeans below the surface of the water. Mentor Mew made light hand gestures, and the altos and the sopranos separated into their prearranged positions. As someone who could fill both roles, Rin went to where she had been assigned in the final rehearsal stages, in the soprano section near the border. Next to her stood Neru, who gave her a distracted nod in greeting. They weren’t friends, per say, but they got along well enough.

Six years of education as Choristers covered basic mathematics, grammar, social graces, how to use whatever talent the girl had been brought in for, the history of Hamartia, geography, the Duets – both passed and still living – and singing.

Only Divas, representatives of the goddess of muses, could use the power of the Holy Chant, but the basis of the Chant was singing, and music always helped in bringing a girl closer to the Hamartian ideal of a lady. Music lessons were also important for the Ceremony of Ascension, where the Choristers entered the cavern housing the Spring of Tegyra and sang the song of the Muse’s Vow in the hopes that a Paean would respond and choose a Diva from among them.

Mentor Mew, who taught the Choristers in the older years their music lessons, looked over them with cool eyes. All sixty-three girls in identical white robes reaching their wrists and knees stood in the cavern, lit only by the dim, flickering light of the torches.

The dark-haired mentor raised her arms, and the Choristers collectively drew in a breath of air. They were in proper singing positions, and their throats had been warmed by vocal exercises outside.

They knew the song by heart, needed no aid from an instrument to find its melody. Every word might as well have been engraved into their hearts at this point.

Their mentor, solemn-faced and intent on her role, gestured at them to begin.

 _“From the skies stretched above_ ,” sang the sopranos, Rin among them. “ _Stars shining a path to the earth.”_

 _“A pair of lovers descended to sing,”_ the altos joined in, their voice lower and more stable, giving the song a richer tone and stronger support than the high, weaving melody the sopranos wove. “ _A song of love, a song of joy.”_

“ _A song of love,”_ Rin trilled with the sopranos.

 _“A song of joy,”_ the altos sang back.

“ _Joy in their hearts,”_ the sopranos picked up the last word before the altos were done, and carried the song onto the next verse. “ _They explored, hand in hand they loved the world_.”

Mentor Mew expanded her arms as if to embrace everything and everyone in the cavern, and brought her hands together in a large, sweeping gesture. As one all the girls sang together. _“They brought with them a gift, a song of bliss, a song of creation.”_

Then it was the chosen altos echoing the last lines, Neru one of them. “ _A song of bliss,”_ was the hushed echo. “ _A song of creation.”_

 _“But day falls to night,”_ trilled the sopranos. The song, the story of the spring’s origins and that of a god’s fall was reaching the part where tragedy struck in the happy tale.

“ _And autumn changes to winter_ ,” the altos replied. All good things came to an end, and even the gods were no exception to the rule Rin had learned from a young age.

_“The god fell, wounded and singing a song of vows, a song of blood.”_

Rin was one of the selected sopranos for the soprano solo. “ _A song of vows,”_ she sang, voice high but by no means breaking. “ _A song of blood.”_

It was the highest note in the entire song, and a difficult one to hit. Miku sang it last year, and it was Rin this year after auditioning for the part.

The dramatic part was done and now, it was the lamenting, slow section of the song they were on. The word ‘blood’ was drawn out in a melancholic whisper and covered by the low murmur of the altos.

 _“The goddess lamented that her love should leave her_ ,” the altos sang as the sopranos hummed mournfully in the background. _“She held him tight” –_

 _“Held him tight,”_ the sopranos sang in canon, repeating the phrase in a different melody.

_“And sang for him” –_

_“Sang for him” –_

Then, all together now. “ _A song of sorrow, a song of tears.”_

And so ended the love story of the goddess and the god, parted by the ultimate fate that awaited all, but the song was not yet done.

 _“And here we stand now,”_ led the sopranos. _“At the sacred spring of lover’s farewell.”_

Everyone.

_“We remember, and we sing a song of hope, a song of reminiscence.”_

Mentor Mew’s final gesture let them draw in breaths. This was the end. The part of the mortals, the humans affected by the tragic love of a pair of divine lovers before their memory.

_“And here we stand now, at the sacred spring of lover’s farewell. We remember, and we sing a song of hope, a song of reminiscence.”_

The last verse was always repeated, a little slower, more dramatic like many verses of a song was. Emphasizing the words of a future yet to come and a promise to be fulfilled.

Unlikely, Rin thought, but despite her thoughts her mouth moved and her tongue shaped the words precisely, and he words rang out clearly on a sweet, perfectly hit note. Six years of choral lessons, of learning how to sing all coming down to one ceremony. The feeling of sickness, of her stomach threatening to turn upside-down was banished now, unable to matter.

Even if she was going to fail this like so many Choristers before, Rin sang her heart out. It was the end and deserved something beautiful as a farewell.

Mentor Mew directed them to a halt with the last, definitive closing movement of her hands, and the voices stopped. The cavern, no longer filled with music, seemed larger and emptier than before.

There was something so terribly sad about the lonely darkness. Rin’s eyes prickled, and the sentimentality stung.

Stupid, she wanted to think, but a larger part of her wanted to stay in this cavern, this sad darkness. To keep it company and comfort its unspoken grief.

It was an unlit cavern, Rin told herself. She was just being stupid.

At least she wasn’t the only one. Someone was silently sobbing, and at least more than one pair of eyes were wet. It wasn’t just Rin enraptured by –

 _Wham_! A loud crashing sound broke the spell and made her flinch. A girl behind her let out a small scream.

“Relax,” Neru muttered, though her voice was a little high-pitched from surprise. “It’s just something that-”

Another slamming sound, this time louder and angrier, rang throughout the cavern like thunder crashing through the sky. That was only a start, with the furious poundings that followed like a prisoner smashing at the walls of his confines demanding to be let out. The fire of the torches shook unsteadily, but there was no wind, no moving air in the cavern that would bring such large movement.

It was as if an invisible hand had seized the flames and were shaking them, throwing a tantrum.

“We will leave now,” Mentor Mew said in an unshaking voice. “Single file, girls.”

The Choristers all obeyed. They were too scared and yet too well-trained to turn into a raving mob. Or maybe it was the desperation of the pounding and the melancholic darkness surrounding them that made them reluctant to leave, like seeing a broken person and wanting to reach out to help. Most of the girls continued to turn their heads back towards the source of the pounding sound, not in morbid, fearful curiosity but from a lingering reluctance that made their steps heavy. It went against all common sense and logic but Rin could empathize.

So this was why some Choristers couldn’t leave until they had to be dragged out, and why Miku found it so difficult to speak about her experience last year, why no Chorister could ever really say something to prepare their successors. There was something haunting about this cavern that made them want to stay.

Stupid, Rin told herself, but she turned her head back and her steps slowed as well, until she was the last in the line. She kept up, but she constantly glanced back. Her chest tightened, and her eyes were stinging.

Furious at the feeling the cavern was giving her, she wiped at her eyes roughly with her sleeve. This was ridiculous. It was just the cavern affecting her. Other Choristers went through the same thing and they ended up fine. They lived their regular lives. This would all be over when she left the cavern.

As if her thoughts were heard, the pounding increased in frequency, and the darkness around the cavern deepened, writhing angrily. The shadows stretched ahead at the pace of the drumming sounds and covered the entrance with tangible darkness, preventing them from exiting.

 _Boom_! The sound of exploding wood behind made them all scream and duck, trying to cover their heads with their arms. Mentor Mew called up a bit of magic in her hands, a small fireball, and lobbed it at the obstacle blocking their path. The shadows rippled where it hit like a pool of water and extinguished the small light.

The ripples, however, did not stop. The darkness churned and rose up like a tidal wave before crashing onto them.

More screams filled the air, replacing the loss of the furious pounding like war drums. Rin slapped her hands over the lower part of her face to hold back any sound and cover her nose and mouth, not wanting to inhale it. The darkness was tangible and hit her like something lighter than water, clinging to her and not passing by.

She struggled to raise her head above it, and broke her head free of the darkness. Mew’s magic hadn’t done anything, but maybe –

With a small prayer towards the goddess of muses, she pulled up all the Force she could. Her hands glowed white with the holy light, and lit up the darkness, making it shrink away.

Except it wasn’t, not completely. The darkness squirmed and writhed like boiling water and shrank into the shape of two arms tightly wrapped around her. She felt the presence of someone – slightly taller than her, male in body shape – behind her, and the sound of heavy panting behind her ear.

Blind panic took over at being restrained, this time by a living, breathing human being, and Rin thrashed, trying to break free.

“Let me go!” she shouted, chest growing tight with fear. The arms, which had the occasional feathers sprouting from what was otherwise bare skin, released her and she nearly fell forwards, only catching her balance at the last possible moment. She hadn’t actually expected her captor to listen. Choristers weren’t expected to become Divas anymore, but they went through the training, if only just in case, and Divas were what protected Hamartia from demons and other nations. In a room filled with several Choristers and a Mentor who taught them how to sing and use magic, it was illogical to give up on the hostage that could keep the invader safe. Any minute now, Rin thought as she looked up at the others, they would attack, especially now that she had been released.

But Mentor Mew and the other Choristers were staring in the direction behind her in a large mix of emotions, most of them with their base in shock. She also saw stunned joy, shocked despair, dawning realization and flustered embarrassment. Eyes were wide, jaws had been dropped, and some were even pointing, unable to say a word.

Two – mostly – human-shaped arms. Darkness that had risen up in the cavern where the Paeans slumbered, waiting for someone to call and claim as their Diva. Her, of all people, having been held. A tight hold that had been released at her demand for it.

With a very bad feeling turning her stomach, Rin turned around to see what her captor risen from the shadows looked like.

The young man wasn’t made out of darkness like she might have expected. Rather, he seemed the antithesis of the shadows that he had been born from. He had the faintly gold skin of a Hamartian who spent enough time in the sun, and hair like daylight. Like all Paeans were said to be, he was beautiful, cherubic in his youthful appearance like a young messenger angel shaped by the gods to represent their glory in the fullest.

A dark robe similar to the ones the Choristers wore hung around him loosely in a way no Chorister would be caught dressing, revealing up to part of the abdomen and tied incorrectly. Occasionally, there were parts of his skin where a feather would be, feathers as dark as the robe he wore.

His eyes, black as a moonless night, were focused on her.

Oh, no.

When Rin met his eyes, his red lips curved upwards in a resplendent smile meant to dazzle anyone who saw it.

“My heart,” he whispered reverently. “My soul, my other half. At long last we meet.”

No way, Rin thought numbly. This all had to be a dream. Any moment now she would wake up and then it would be her Ceremony of Ascension and then she would fail like everyone else and she would be honorably discharged as a Chorister and live a normal, peaceful life with Miku, talking about nothing too important as days passed on and they made their living together, relying on each other to get through this world as safely as they could.

But there was no waking from reality, and the Paean – her Paean – only deepened his smile.

“I am the Paean of the Dark Paradise,” he introduced himself, almost singing the words. “But you can call me Len.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Meiko's hair to not just be the usual bobcut but more of a thin ponytail, kind of like how she is in 'Iroha-ni-Jinseicho'.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is going to break my heart but what the hey.  
> writing this because i have vocaloid otps, a love for fantasy and the urge to write a semi-original story without making up character names or appearances and vocaloid was always great for that.  
> You can find me on my [Tumblr](https://huinari.tumblr.com/) where I usually ramble and post snippets of future uploads.
> 
> Sweet Dreams~


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